


Christmas Gifts

by mithrel



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blanket Permission, First Kiss, First Time, Gift Giving, Hand Jobs, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-23
Updated: 2009-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bashir gives gifts to his friends for Christmas. His gift for Garak has disastrous consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Gifts

Despite the fact that DS9 was hundreds of light years from Earth, and away from any seasonal changes, despite the Dominion threat, the human personnel on the station were enjoying for the winter holidays, perhaps more fervently because of the danger. Those of the Jewish faith had celebrated Hanukkah, the Hindus and Buddhists had celebrated Diwali, and the Christians were preparing for Christmas. The captain had allowed everyone possible leave on the holidays they celebrated, and Quark’s had been doing a brisk trade in latkes, Gulab Jamun and gingerbread.

The nonhuman inhabitants of the station watched with bemusement, some of them joining in the festivities, particularly the Bajorans, to honor the Emissary. Bashir had spent the past week or so locating gifts for his friends. Some had been easy to shop for: a baseball glove for Captain Sisko, a journal and old-fashioned fountain pen for Jake, a new set of darts for Chief O’Brien. Others had required a bit more thought. He’d settled on a magic kit for Dax and a Bajoran prayer-wheel for Major Kira. He’d had no clue what to get for Quark or Odo, but then had decided to get a small quantity of a valuable spice for Quark and a piece of abstract statuary for Odo. He’d debated getting something for Worf, but decided he didn’t know him well enough.

There was only one of his friends left to get something for. Garak. Christmas was two days away, and he had no clue what to get him. Every time he thought he had something appropriate, the idea suddenly seemed ridiculous. He sipped morosely at his tea, and stared at the patrons milling around Quark’s. “Mind if I join you?”

“What? Oh, Jadzia. Of course not, sit down.”

“Why do you look so miserable? It’s almost Christmas!”

He sighed. “That’s the problem!”

“Why, Julian, don’t tell me you’re a Scrooge!”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Of course not! I’ve got presents for everybody, as a matter of fact!”

“Everybody?”

“Captain Sisko, Jake, Chief O’Brien, Kira, even Quark and Odo.”

“And me too, I hope,” she said, smiling teasingly.

“Of course! But I’m not telling you what I got you!” he said severely.

“I wouldn’t dream of asking. Being surprised is half the fun!”

She took a sip of her raktaijino. “So what’s the problem?”

“I haven’t got anything for Garak.”

“Cardassians don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“Neither do Trill,” he shot back. “Or Ferengi, or Bajorans, for that matter, except to honor Captain Sisko. And Changelings certainly don’t, but I got something for Quark, Kira and Odo anyway.”

“So get something for him. You still have time.”

“But I don’t know what to get him!” he said plaintively.

“Hm. That _is_ a problem. But you should know him well enough by now to pick out something he’d like.”

“I’ve tried, but nothing seems right. As for knowing him, you know how he is. Everything he says is two parts misdirection, one part evasion and one part outright lie.”

“True. So what have you come up with?”

“I don’t know!” he said in exasperation. “I’ve thought about getting him a new sizing scanner, or some Andorian brocade, or a hard copy of some of the human literature he actually likes (which isn’t much, by the way), but none of that seems right.”

“Why is getting the perfect gift for him so important to you?”

“Well, I know Cardassians don’t celebrate Christmas, but everyone else on the station is getting into the spirit of things, and I know he doesn’t have many friends, and it must be uncomfortable for him, and I care about him, as a friend I mean…” Julian was aware he was beginning to babble, and shut up before his mouth ran away with him. “I just want to get something special for him, that’s all,” he finished lamely.

“Of course you do.” Dax looked at him penetratingly, and Julian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, what do you _want_ to get him?”

“I don’t _know!_ ” But that wasn’t true; he knew what he wanted to get Garak, but he didn’t know if he had the nerve.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Good luck.” And with that enigmatic comment she got up and left.

###

It was Christmas Day, and Bashir spent the morning giving gifts to his friends. He started with the Siskos. Captain Sisko had grinned when he saw the baseball glove nestled in the paper. He went over to his desk and got the baseball that always sat there. “Thanks, Doctor. I can’t wait to try it out!”

Jake’s mouth had fallen open when he’d seen the leather-bound journal and fountain pen. “Oh, wow!”

Bashir smiled at him. “I expect you to start filling it up right away.”

“I will, thanks!”

Sisko had presented him with a square package, which, when he opened it, turned out to be a book. Julian looked at the cover, then flipped to the first page. “Saving the Queen?”

“It’s a spy novel that takes place during the Cold War. I think you’ll enjoy it. The author also wrote several more books with the same character that take place after this one.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

Then he’d gone to see Major Kira, and given her her gift. She’d seemed surprised and pleased when she saw the prayer-wheel. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome, Major. I figured since Christmas was originally a religious holiday on Earth, it was fitting to give you something connected with your religion.”

“This is for you.” She handed him a small package.

“Major, you didn’t have to–”

“I know,” she said. “But I got things for everyone. Open it.”

He tore the wrapping off the small package to reveal an isolinear rod. He looked at her questioningly.

“It’s a recording of Bajoran meditation chants.” She smiled. “Maybe you can learn to meditate properly, instead of hyperventilating.”

He made a face at her, then smiled. “Thank you, Major.”

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

O’Brien was spending the day with his family, so Julian didn’t stay long. Miles looked appreciative of the gift. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Chief. Maybe now you can finally beat me once in a while!”

“Oh, ha ha! Thanks very much Julian, I’m sure!” He held up a hand. “Wait a sec.”

He went into another room and came back with a package. “Here.”

He could tell even without unwrapping it that it was alcohol of some sort. “Bushmills Original Irish Whiskey?”

“Best there is, and nearly impossible to get. Save it for a special occasion.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Julian left the O’Briens’ thinking that if he was extraordinarily lucky he might have something to celebrate soon.

He went to Quark’s next, since he didn’t want to deal with Dax until he had to. He was sure she suspected. The Ferengi was tending his bar, but left Rom to take care of the customers when Julian called him over. “Merry Christmas,” he said, handing him the package.

Quark looked suspicious. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Julian rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to open it, Quark, it’s a present.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There’s no _catch_. It’s customary to give presents to one’s friends at Christmas.”

“It’s not a Ferengi custom.”

“Of course not, there’s no profit in it! Now will you just open the damn thing?”

“All right, all right, no need to get snippy.” He opened the box and his eyes gleamed when he saw the small box of Bolian red spice. “Oh, this will definitely make a profit. Maybe this Hu-man holiday isn’t so bad after all.”

Julian grinned at him. “Merry Christmas, Quark!” he called over his shoulder on the way to the Security Office.

Odo hadn’t taken the day off, claiming that since the Changelings didn’t celebrate Christmas, and with all the confusion on the station, it made more sense for him to be on the alert, and he was sitting behind his desk going over a report. He looked vaguely surprised to see who had walked in.

“Doctor. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Actually, yes.” He handed him the package. “Merry Christmas, Constable.”

Odo took it and carefully opened the paper, revealing the sculpture. “Thank you, Doctor, that was very kind of you. I must say, I don’t really understand the humanoid tendency for celebration, but I appreciate your thinking of me.”

“Well, part of Christmas is giving gifts to your friends, so of course I’d give you something. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

He left the office and sighed. There was nothing else for it. He’d given everyone their gifts except Garak and Dax. Given the choice, he’d rather face the Trill, despite the fact that he was sure she knew, somehow, about Garak.

With a resolute sigh he headed off to her quarters.

“Julian! Merry Christmas!”

He choked on a laugh. The Trill was wearing a Santa hat. “Merry Christmas to you too, and the hat looks good on you, though I think you forgot the beard.”

She grinned impishly. “No need to go _quite_ that far.”

She gestured him inside and he sat down, handing her her present as he did. She took it and tore the wrapping off with a gleeful look on her face, revealing the magic kit, then looked up at him with a broad grin. “Thanks, Julian.”

He smiled back, feeling somewhat more relaxed. “I think there’s some tricks in there that you might not know.”

“Good thing, too, people are getting tired of me pulling things out of their ears.” She came over to him and hugged him. “Merry Christmas, Julian.”

Not long ago if she had done that he would have been flustered and started blushing and stammering. Now he only sighed. She gave him a speculative look, then handed him a small package. “Open it.”

He did, to find several small rectangular chips. “Holosuite chips?”

She nodded. “You can use them with Miles, or else on your own. I know you have that spy holoprogram.” She paused. “Take Garak with you.”

“Jadzia–” he started.

She cut him off. “Have you told him yet?”

He slumped in his chair. “No.” He paused. “How did you know?”

She laughed softly. “Julian, you couldn’t keep a secret to save your life.”

He sighed.

“How long have you felt this way about him?” she asked gently.

“I don’t know exactly. A long time. At least since the implant malfunctioned.”

“You’ve cared about him that long and you never said anything?”

“Well what was I supposed to say? ‘Hallo, Garak, you’re looking well today, by the way I’m madly in love with you’?”

“You have to tell him.”

“I know. I’ve got something for him for Christmas that will hopefully give me the opportunity.”

She smiled at him sympathetically. “Merry Christmas, Julian. And good luck!”

###

He had asked to meet Garak for lunch at the Replimat, and the Cardassian was already sitting at their usual table as he sat down with his lunch.

“Hello, Doctor, how are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I just finished giving everyone their Christmas gifts.”

“Ah, yes. Speaking of,” the tailor stooped down and drew a large, flat box wrapped in green paper from under the table. “Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

Julian was surprised. He hadn’t expected to get anything from Garak. He unwrapped the box and opened it to see a mass of wine-colored fabric. He lifted it out to see that it was a long-sleeved shirt and pants, both cut so as to be comfortably loose rather than skintight.

“I’ll give you a sense of style yet, Doctor.”

Julian grinned. “Thanks, Garak. I have something for you, too.” He handed him a small box.

“Doctor, you shouldn’t have.” The Cardassian began to carefully open the box, and Julian rolled his eyes.

“Garak, you’re supposed to tear the wrapping off.”

“What a waste.” But the Cardassian indulged him, tearing off the paper and opening the box to find a necklace inside it. He pulled it out slowly, tracing his hands over the three intertwined chains, silver, black and silver. The hollow diamond of black metal dangled below it. His face went completely opaque for a moment, then he threw the necklace on the table and stared at Bashir with an expression of rage on his face.

“What is _this?_ ” His voice was quiet, venomous.

“It’s–it’s a Cardassian courtship necklace.”

“I can see that, Doctor, but why are you giving it to me?”

“I–”

“Do you have any idea what the significance of this is?”

Julian swallowed. “It’s–it’s given to a loved one as an expression of a hope for marriage.”

“I didn’t know you had it in you to be so cruel. And what in the world made you think I would want this?”

Julian closed his eyes, aware that he had quite possibly done something the tailor would never forgive him for. Still, he tried to answer. “Well…you’ve been flirting with me for…”

“Flirting? _Flirting?_ By whose standards?” The Cardassian paused. “How very ethnocentric of you, Doctor, to interpret everything by human lights. Excuse me, but I must tend to my shop.” And without another word, he got up and left.

###

“God, it was awful.” He was sitting in Dax’s quarters later that evening.

She looked at him with sympathy, and something like pity. “Julian, you really are an idiot.”

He gaped at her. “What?”

“I told you before you come on too strong! You never gave Garak any indication that you felt anything other than friendship for him, and then you give him something that amounts to a marriage proposal? What was he supposed to think?”

Julian buried his face in his hands. “You’re right. How do I fix this?”

“Well, it’s not _all_ bad news. At least you know he does feel _something_ for you.”

He looked up sharply. “What?”

“Think about it. Garak’s suspicious, and doesn’t trust anyone. He never gives anything away. He’s also something of a pessimist, and given his history, can you blame him? But when you gave him the necklace he accused you of being cruel. Why would he do that unless he’d wanted something more from you, but thought you weren’t serious?”

He stared at her. “You’re right! He did say that. So maybe I can fix this somehow.”

“It’s not going to be easy. Garak’s convinced you were playing some kind of sadistic joke on him. He’s feeling betrayed by one of the only people he’s ever come close to trusting. If you’re going to persuade him you _are_ serious about how you feel about him, you better have a damn convincing argument.”

“I guess so. Thanks, Jadzia.”

“What are friends for? Although I wish you’d come to me before this–then you might not be in this situation.”

He nodded acknowledgement, got up, and left.

###

He went to Garak’s quarters the next day. He had tried to rehearse what he was going to say, but he had no clue how Garak would react, so he hadn’t been able to plan what he was going to say beyond the opening statement.

When the door opened for him, he quickly went inside before Garak could lock him out. The Cardassian stared at him with cold fury.

“I have nothing to say to you, Doctor.”

“Then listen. Garak, I was an idiot.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.”

Julian flinched at the tailor’s tone, but forged ahead. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I should never have given you that necklace.” Garak looked like he was about to say something, and he held up a hand. “Hear me out. I can’t imagine what you must have thought. It’s as if Kira walked up to me and gave me an engagement ring.”

Garak’s lips twitched at that, then his glare returned.

Julian rubbed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have given you that necklace. It was too much. But I still meant it.”

“You can’t have!” Garak burst out suddenly.

“Why not?” He took a deep breath. “Garak I’ve…cared about you for years now. Since the implant malfunctioned.”

Surprise flashed over the tailor’s face for a moment, to be instantly replaced by suspicion. “So why tell me now?”

“A lot of reasons. I didn’t before, because our friendship meant too much to me. I didn’t know how you’d react, and I didn’t want to lose you. But we’re on the threshold of war with the Dominion, Cardassia has joined them, either of us could die at any moment. Add to that the fact that I spent more than a month in a Dominion prison…” He trailed off, then said, to himself mostly, “I was replaced by a Changeling, and no one even noticed. There’s no safety anymore.” He looked at Garak. “For all I know, _you_ could be a Changeling infiltrator!”

“I’m not!” The Cardassian actually seemed offended.

Julian sighed. “I know you’re not. But you could be. Anyone could.” He paused again. “And you trusted me enough to let me know about Tain.”

“That was a mistake.”

He winced. “Garak, I won’t _tell_ anyone!”

“Oh, please! Doctor, you couldn’t keep a secret to save your life!”

Dax had said the same thing. If only they knew; keeping one secret _had_ saved his life. “I can if it’s important,” he shot back. “After all, you never suspected how I felt about you.”

“You don’t feel anything for me, except friendship. I don’t know why you persist in toying with my feelings, but this conversation is over. Good day, Doctor.”

Julian stared at him, his thoughts racing. _Toying with his feelings? So I did read him right. But he doesn’t believe me. And can I really blame him? After all, his own father rejected him…_

He stood there a moment, unsure of how to get Garak to believe him, then threw caution to the winds and kissed him. He tried to put all of his feelings into that kiss: all the desire and love and hope and fear.

The Cardassian stiffened, and for a moment Julian was sure he’d push him away, but then he seemed to make a decision, and kissed him back with just as much desperation.

 _He still thinks it’s too good to be true._ But at least he was responding, and Julian reveled in the feel of Garak in his arms, kissing him breathless, then moving down to his neck to bite hard enough to break the skin.

Julian flinched, and gripped Garak’s shoulders tighter. He ran his hands under the tailor’s shirt, as Garak ground against him. Before he knew quite how it had happened, he was on Garak’s bed, with his clothes off, and the tailor was above him, also naked.

He’d expected Garak to fuck him, and so was surprised when the tailor merely took his erection in his hand and started stroking. There was no finesse to it, no gentleness, and Julian simply lay there for a moment, panting, before reaching up to return the favor.

Garak threw his head back and moaned, and the sound sent a jolt through him. His strokes sped up, and the tailor’s did the same. They had both waited too long for this to make it last, and before long it became too much.

Garak came first, with a noise that was half moan, half sob, and Julian followed him a moment later. Garak rolled to the side at the last moment, to avoid crushing him.

Julian looked at the tailor, trying to gauge his reaction. The tailor gave him a sleepy smile. “Well, Doctor, I must say, you make a _most_ persuasive argument.”

Julian laughed, and leaned over to kiss him.

###

A while later, he was on his way to the Infirmary, to get a dermal regenerator to heal the mark Garak had left on his neck. He was ecstatic that he’d managed to convince the tailor he was sincere, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to advertise their relationship yet. He hurried along the corridor, hoping not to meet anyone.

“Julian!”

He flinched, hunching his shoulders to hide the mark, then relaxed when he saw who’d called his name. “Oh, Jadzia.”

The Trill looked at him, noting his rumpled clothes, faintly guilty expression, and the mark on his neck. “Did you talk to Garak?”

“I did.”

She grinned at him. “Looks like it went well. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m happy for you.”

He grinned back, and replied, “Well, after all, actions speak louder than words.”


End file.
